Three Secrets
by A for Anarchy
Summary: Post 6x21: in anticipation of the season finale, I've concocted this little slice of Jisbon. Please, don't rush. There's plenty to go around. Please note the rating change, readers, it's there for a reason!
1. Opening Salvo

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Mentalist_. _El diablo_, Bruno Heller, does.

**Author's Note**: You know, I'm still curious about those three secrets that Jane promised Lisbon back in season five. This is my way of satisfying my own curiosity; maybe it will satisfy yours as well, good readers! It will definitely take more than this one chapter.

* * *

He was surprised to hear knocking on the door of his Airstream at this hour. Normally, if there was a case late at night Abbott, or Fischer, would call him (they would usually add threats to make sure that his arrival was timely).

Knocking, however…knocking was odd. He debated opening the door for moment; perhaps this late-night caller would be dissuaded if he acted like he wasn't home.

The next knock was accompanied by a stern voice, "Open up, Jane, I know you're in there."

Oh, well, Lisbon at his door was a different matter entirely. And, while her presence was anything but unwelcome, it was slightly confusing.

Still, best not to keep her waiting any longer; she might take exception to his sluggish response time and break down the door.

Therefore, it was with a small of amount of trepidation, and a large amount of curiosity, that Jane opened the door to his mobile home.

As predicted, Lisbon was beginning to stew in her own juices, so Jane was hoping to forestall the impending explosion with pleasantries, "Good evening, Teresa. What brings you to my door this late? Shouldn't you be at home, perhaps packing up all your worldly goods in anticipation of your grand future with Special Agent Marcus Pike."

Despite himself, Jane winced at his delivery. His greeting contained a bit too much honesty, and even though he wasn't happy with the situation, and even though he longed to throw himself onto his knees before Lisbon and beg her to stay, he knew that his emotions would only cloud the issue. Lisbon didn't need that from him right now.

Luckily for him, she decided to ignore his outburst, and instead went straight for his jugular.

"You owe me three secrets, Jane. And I think I need to collect before I make my decision."

* * *

Jane was right.

She should have been home packing, but every time she picked something up, she was overwhelmed by the memories contained within the object.

She hadn't realized how many of her possessions were, in some way, marked by her time with Jane.

The memories were everywhere. They were in a blouse that Jane had said complemented her eyes every time she had worn it; they were in a wood-carved pen that Jane had bought her on a whim, he'd said that if she was forced to do paperwork, it should be done with the best. She'd continued to buy ink refills for it over the years despite using it sparingly.

They were heavily concentrated in the pseudo-shrine that she had built for him in the two years that he had been gone. Conch shells, dried flowers, newspaper clippings, and a button from his favorite shirt surrounded the box filled with his letters. In the letter containing the button that he'd sent, he'd claimed that it was the last remnants of his favorite shirt.

Lisbon had another shirt of his, tucked away amongst her own. On nights that she had felt particularly lonely, she had brought it out and held it to her nose, desperately trying to find some hint of his scent within.

Marcus had never asked about the shrine, or about the shirt. Lisbon is sure that he is afraid or her answer; Lisbon is afraid that she won't have one.

Memories of Jane were in every corner of her life, filling her up.

She knew that she could not leave without finding out, once and for, if Jane could be more than a memory to her in the future.

Lisbon also knew that the next move was on her; Jane had taken white this time, opening with a cautious advance.

For all the time that Jane had spent on attempting to teach her chess, Lisbon was still not a very good player, and she was terrified that she might overextend her grasp, causing her gambit to fail.

So, she showed up at his door in the early hours of the morning, armed with a challenge that she knew he wouldn't be able to resist.

"You owe me three secrets, Jane. And I think I need to collect before I make my decision."


	2. Secret the First, part One: Lisbon

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Mentalist_, it belongs to the redeemed Bruno Heller.

**Author's Note**: I'm walking on sunshine, whoooooa! I'm walking on sunshine! Oops, okay, I'm a little too happy about the season finale. Actually, I'm freaking overjoyed, over the moon, on cloud nine; I'm freaking out! And now, I present to you the second chapter!

* * *

He's taken aback by her request.

Honestly, he always thought that she would be too cowardly to collect, thus freeing him of the possibility of having to deliver.

Well, well, well, it looks like Teresa Lisbon had found her spine tonight.

"Lisbon, I really don't think that this is the time for parlor tricks." He was hoping to make her angry enough to storm off without her desired answers. It was a pretty safe bet to make; after all, he'd been doing it for years.

However, it seemed that his run of good luck had finally met its untimely end.

"Not happening, Jane. I'm not going to let you piss me off just so you can dodge talking about this."

He sighed; it had been worth a shot anyway. "Come on in, Lisbon. We don't need to be airing our dirty laundry for all and sundry to hear. You know, you could teach stubbornness to mules."

"And patience to rocks. You won't slither out of this confrontation." She brushed past him roughly, her irritation made plain in her expression. "I'm not sure I see anything 'dirty' about, Jane. You. Owe. Me. End of story."

Jane made one last effort to rally, "Yes, dear, in a fit of pique, with tensions running high, I did say that I would tell you any three secrets about you. But, what I don't recall is promising any such thing. There were no promises, Lisbon."

Lisbon gave a snort full of derision, "And that's the story of our time together, isn't it, Jane. No promises, not even to me, because you'd just end up breaking them."

He was hurt by her accusation. She really had no idea how much it had taken out of him not to give her promises because he had wanted more than anything to promise her a future. But he knew better than anyone that the future was uncertain, fluid, and that it changed based on thoughtless actions and words.

Before he could defend himself, defend _them_, she stream-rolled over his unvoiced objections. "It's not like I don't understand why, Jane. I knew why. It was Red John, always Red John. But it has been two years, Jane, and there is no more Red John."

Jane watched her heave a heavy sigh, followed by her shoulders slumping. He wanted to go to her so badly, to take her into his arms, but he knew that at this point, any contact between them would be explosive and might result in her physically damaging him (he hadn't had his nose broken for a few months, and he was hoping to avoid it tonight at all costs).

But clearly, Lisbon wasn't done saying her piece. "I'm getting off topic here, Jane. I'm not here to talk about Red John; I'm not here to talk about promises either. I'm here to talk about secrets because I have a feeling that there are some that need telling."

They eyeballed each other in silence, sizing the other up, looking for weaknesses in defenses, and hoping that when the walls were breached, that they wouldn't crumble.

"What do you propose then, Lisbon?"

A palpable hit, she flinched at his choice of words. But, Lisbon was never one to shy away from a challenge.

"What I'm _proposing_, Jane, is an equal exchange of information. Three of my secrets for three of yours."

Jane blinked at her, slightly dumbfounded by this turn of events.

"Are you suggesting that you try to read _me_, Lisbon? I don't think that would go well; you'd probably just embarrass yourself."

Another hit, and he was back on the offensive. His Lisbon did not take kindly to personal criticisms of her acumen.

Jane could see her face reddening with suppressed anger. Time to make the lid fly off the pot, he thought smugly. If this doesn't get her out of here, then nothing else will.

"No offense, my dear, but you're not known for your ability to read people. That's why your department hired me, remember?"

It hurt to do this to her, it really did. But, when faced with the possibility of actually having to let her in, to let her _see_ him…He didn't want her to go to D.C., but he didn't want to have to expose himself to get her to stay.

"Jesus, Jane!"

Here it comes…

"You can be such a condescending ass! You know what, I don't want to _read_ you; I want you to read yourself and just be honest about how you feel for once in your fucking life! If I can't rely on you to do that, why should I even bother staying?"

The lid was off, but she was still here.

She was still here, but now she was _crying_.

"Shit, Lisbon, I'm sorry." It was Jane's turn to give a heavy sigh.

He nervously ran his fingers through his hair before continuing, "I just wanted to make you leave, Lisbon. I didn't mean it, any of it. You're brilliant, you are, but I can't…I don't think I can do this. There's just too much. I've hidden myself for so long, I don't think I could even begin to…"

Jane trailed off as she began to wipe tears furiously off her cheek.

"You think this is any easier for me, Jane? I've got just as much to lose if our sharing session goes south. In fact, I think I've got_ more_ to lose since apparently I'm the only one who invested their feelings, their honesty, and their goddamn loyalty to the other person!"

He felt his own anger rise to the surface at hearing her accusation, "You think I'm not invested? That I don't _care_? Do you know how many times I've wanted to―"

Jane cut himself off, the words tangling in his throat.

When he started again his voice was hoarse with emotion, "Okay, Lisbon. You win; we'll do this your way: three of my secrets for three of yours. Do you want us to spill our guts all at once, or do you want to take turns?"

She looked at him steadily, the evidence of her anger still fresh on her cheeks and said, "I think I want a cup of tea."

* * *

She knows what he is trying to do, and dammit, it's working. Jane had the innate ability to piss her off past the point of reason, but she also knows that it's a tactic he uses out of desperation. He's trying to cover up his soft underbelly for fear that she'll rip it open.

He should know by now though that his claws could cut her just as deeply.

But, she can't just let him get away with it this time. There's too much riding on this. So, she'll allow for a brief redirect.

"I think I want a cup of tea."

He gives her a relieved smile and begins to bustle around his small kitchenette. "In the mood for something in particular, Lisbon? I've got a lovely oolong that has a citrus-y flavor, or would you prefer a spicy chai?"

Deep breaths, Teresa, deep breaths.

"Spare me the show, Jane, and just make me a goddamn cup of tea. I don't care what it is." She sees him wince at her tone. She knows she could be nicer, but he deserves to have his attitude thrown back at him.

Jane's like a cat though, always able to find his feet. "Take a seat, Lisbon, and I'll have this over to you in a jiffy." She can hear the false cheerfulness covering the fear beneath.

He's worried too. She was being cruel when she said that he wasn't invested because she knew that he probably stood to lose more if this went bad, but she was feeling petty and small and he didn't deserve comfort right now!

She sits down on his sofa, noting that it's nowhere near as comfortable as the one in the office, and she tries to gather her thoughts back into the semi-coherent order they'd had before her confrontation with Jane.

Item One-ish: Go to Jane's Airstream and try not to scream out feelings of love, desires to stay, or comments on how his near-bedtime appearance is adorably attractive. Check.

Item Two-ish: Coerce Jane into a discussion involving potentially hazardous topics, like said feelings of love. Check

Item Three-ish: Try not to cry. Nope, definitely failed to do that one.

Item Four-ish: Drink tea and discuss secrets. In progress.

Jane appeared at her knee, tea in hand, and startled her out of her thoughts. "Here, Lisbon, it's the chai. I thought you'd like it better than the oolong, it has a richer flavor, like coffee."

She murmured an absent thanks and took the cup. He sat down opposite her and took a sip from his own tea. Probably the oolong, she thought, because I'm pretty sure that he keeps the chai just in case I decide to switch over completely. The thought warms her in a way that a million cups of tea could not, the thought of Jane planning for a future with her in it.

Well, that would be as good an opening as any.

"This is why I'm here, you know."

Her quiet words shattered the silence that had surrounded them, causing Jane to look up at her sharply, the questions already rising in his eyes.

Before he can voice them however, Lisbon rushes on, eager to get her thoughts out before reason, or fear, could intervene.

"I'm here because you buy chai tea, even though you don't drink it. You get it for me because you know that it's the only kind that I find bearable. And I drink it for you because you like tea, and you like watching me enjoy the things you like."

Jane's mouth is hanging slightly open in surprise. She can tell that he wants to object, that he wants to crawl away somewhere and hide, but she's come too far to let him get away now.

"So, Jane, secrets. I think we should start with something small, then work our way up. And since you already made the first move with the cannoli, I'll counter."

That earns her a small smile; he'd always been appreciative of the fact that she was willing to play chess with him, even though she was terrible.

"Okay…secret number one: I briefly hated you for sleeping with Lorelei Martins."

Jane threw his head back an laughed. "Lorelei? That's what you consider a 'small' secret, Lisbon? Jesus, I don't really think that I want to know what else you have in store for me."

Her goal had been achieved, some of the tension in the room had faded away, leaving room for honest talk.

"It's the truth, Jane. I hated the way you let her blindside me in the interrogation room! I'm supposed to have the upper hand in those situations, and you made me powerless when you didn't include vital information! I was cut off at the knees, and then you ended up playing right into her little games. It wasn't fair, Jane, and if you really had been my partner you would have told me."

He stayed silent for a moment, digesting her words before making his own counterattack. "I am sorry about that, Lisbon," he began slowly, "but, I have an explanation for it. It may not be good, you may not like it, but it's the only one I have. Red John."

She leaned back onto the sofa, closed her eyes, and ran her hands down her face. "It always comes back to Red John with you, Jane. I have to tell you, I'm pretty fucking sick of it."

Lisbon looked up in time to see him flinch again. "I know, Lisbon, I know. He was my life for ten years. It's not as easy to let him go as I thought it would be. But, he had everything to do with why I didn't tell you about Lorelei."

He looked at her cautiously, and she motioned him to go on, "Go ahead, Jane. I've been waiting a long time to hear this."

Nodding, he continued, "See, the thing was, if I didn't tell you about Lorelei, what else had I not told you? If Red John knew how far into my confidence I'd taken you, you would become an even bigger target. I couldn't let that happen; there was still so much that I didn't know. I would not have knowingly endangered you in a situation so far out of my control, and certainly not without your permission."

Lisbon snorted at his last words, "You've never been one to ask permission, Jane, danger or not."

Jane gave a small nod of agreement, "I know, Lisbon, but I've always done my best to include you, but that was one time that I couldn't. It was imperative that Red John not be alerted to the fact that you would be a major player in his eventual fall. I was a known loner, my dear, but you did your level best to bring me out of my self-imposed exile. And it worked; I think it worked better than you anticipated, actually.

"However, Red John could not know about you until I knew more about him, and that couldn't happen unless…"

She finished his sentence, "Unless I was kept in the dark." She took his silence as affirmation.

"You know, a lot of things might have been different if you'd found a way to tell me that all those years ago."

Jane gave her a wry smile, "Yeah but, we wouldn't be here now having this heart-to-heart, would we Lisbon?"

Lisbon gave him a smile of her own. "Jane, we'd still be here and you know it. I'm not the only stubborn person around here." That got her a chuckle. Okay, she thought, time to move this conversation forward.

"Alright, Jane, that was my first secret. It's your turn."


	3. Secret the First, part Two: Jane

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Mentalist_. It belongs to the slightly angelic Bruno Heller.

**Author's Note**: Okie dokie, folks! Now it's Jane's turn! I wonder what he'll reveal…

* * *

"_Alright, Jane, that was my first secret. It's your turn."_

This is not something he's looking forward to. His soul is private, impenetrable, and to bare it before Lisbon completely was never something he had anticipated on having to do.

He'd been able to skate by on half-truths for so long that he could hardly remember what the telling the truth actually entailed.

And she didn't just want the truth, she wanted a secret.

He was, by nature, a very secretive man. The illusionist always had to have a trick hidden up his sleeve, something guaranteed to shock and awe.

Jane was there…but he was without his sleeves. There was no trick he could pull that would distract his tenacious Lisbon.

God, he loved how fierce she was when she had someone within her grasp. He'd been brought to arousal on several occasions during the Volker case.

Lisbon would get this look in her eye, one that promised pain to anyone who got in her way, and then she would do what she did best: she'd go tackle some worthless son of a bitch and make him cry for his mother.

However, that was not the sort of secret that he wanted to spill right now. It wasn't the kind of secret that Lisbon would want to hear. She needed something more personal, something that had affected both of them on a profound level. And like she'd told him, she could be patient. Jane knew that this was one time that she could wait him out.

Well, she'd opened with Lorelei; Jane felt that it was only right that he counter with the same.

"Funny that you should mention Lorelei, Lisbon, I happen to have a secret about her concerning you myself."

He saw her perk up at the mention of Lorelei's name. It was her turned to be surprised anyway, they'd both gotten each other off guard a few times that night, but Jane felt that he was falling behind. This would help to even the score.

"What about Lorelei, Jane? I'm not sure that you have anything left to share about her that I would want to hear."

Privately, Jane agreed with her, but she was the one who had asked for a secret. "You may not want to hear it, Lisbon, but you're going to have to. It might even make you hate me again, so I'm going to do this quickly, like pulling off a Band-Aid."

He took a deep breath, preparing to open the wound. "IwantedyoutohatemeforadifferentreasonaboutLorelei. Iwantedyoutobejealous."

The shock that he'd worn on his face at the reveal of Lisbon's first secret was now mirrored on her.

"What was that, Jane? I'm pretty sure I got all that, but I need to be sure. You wanted me to be jealous?"

Jane could see the anger gathering on her face in the squint of her brows, in the compression of her lips."

"Just what the hell was I supposed to be jealous of, Jane? Why was I supposed to care if you were off fucking half of Vegas?"

He buried his face in his hands, his voice coming out muffled between his fingers, "I don't have a rational explanation for this, Lisbon. It was never even a conscious thought, just the whisper of one."

"What does that mean, Jane?! I was angry as hell! You disappeared for half a year, you didn't return my calls, and you didn't even send word that you were alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere.

"I was out of my mind with worry, Jane. And then you came waltzing back in, large as life, with another plan to go after Red John, and I was meant to fall in line and not ask questions like always. Now you're telling me that you wanted me to be jealous that you fucked Red John's girl?"

At this point, she was standing over him and yelling down at his bent head. Jane looked up at her and she could see the hurt and regret building in his eyes. Anger momentarily deflated, she flopped back down onto the sofa.

"You have to let me explain this without interrupting me, Lisbon. I don't think I can get through it if you do."

He waited until she gave her agreement before speaking again, "Like I said, it wasn't a conscious thought. I didn't sleep with her to make you jealous; I slept with her to get closer to Red John. But, when we were in that interrogation room, and she let slip that we had spent a night together, I wanted you to react like a woman, not like a cop. I wanted you to make a stand, to show your possession of me, show her that she couldn't break us apart.

"It was a fleeting desire brought on by momentary insanity, Lisbon. It's still there though, sitting in the back of my mind. I wish you'd been jealous of all the women that have shown any interest in me over the years. I knew I couldn't say that I belonged to you, and I knew that _you_ couldn't say that I belonged to you. But, that doesn't mean that I didn't want to, or that I didn't want you to."

He can tell that she is shocked by his words, shocked by how possessive he had sounded.

Over the years, he'd gone out of his way to avoid such words, avoid voicing those feelings. However, that had never stopped him from _feeling_ them. They were often there, sitting on the back of his tongue, eager to spring out when some strange woman's eyes lingered too long; or, when some man's pupils dilated at the sight of Lisbon commanding her troops.

He could feel more words, similar to the ones he had just given, boiling up the back of his throat. Jane knew that it was a consequence of suppression, his desire not to fell sometimes led to him feeling too much. But, he kept his mouth closed and waited for Lisbon to respond.

She began slowly, her confusion adding a tightness to her voice, "I don't really know how to respond to that Jane. You never―You never made any indication towards me, aside from that one time, so I couldn't―"

Jane shook his head in agreement, "I know, Lisbon. And I never would have given you one. I slipped up once, more than once actually, but I never went too far; I could always draw back."

His first secret had caused a pain in Lisbon that he had not expected, but it was a pain that was known to him.

The desire to reach out and be with another person in a more familiar way was something that he and Lisbon had been denied because of Red John.

"I was jealous, Jane."

Her admission is unexpected, but not unwelcome.

"Is that your next secret, my dear?" He allowed himself a small, smug smile. The thought of Lisbon being jealous over him was a fantasy that had kept him company through many lonely nights.

"Nope, just a thought I wanted to share. I mean, I wasn't about to turn into a raging mass of scorned woman over you, Jane. I think what I was jealous of was the way you sometimes shared yourself with other people. There were things that you kept from me that you so freely gave to others.

"It was like you were denying me something out of spite. I hated feeling like that, and then your silence about Lorelei didn't help out at all."

He shook his head in denial, "No, Lisbon; it was never out of spite, and there was quite a bit less sharing that you might believe. You've been the only one that I've ever given _more_ to! Even my wi―"

Jane cut himself off and looked away, too ashamed to face her. Thankfully, Lisbon was feeling merciful and let that go.

"It's okay, Jane. I think it's my turn next. But first, more tea I think?"

He gratefully collected her cup and saucer and returned to the kitchenette. Soon the sound of boiling water filled the silence. Jane let the process of making their tea soothe over his recently opened wound.

That was one secret that he wasn't ready to tell Lisbon. It was a source of shame even greater than what he felt about his unconscious attempt to use Lorelei to make Lisbon jealous.

He brought Lisbon her tea and sat back down with no small amount of trepidation. His feelings were closer to the surface than they'd been for years, leaving him feeling raw and exposed.

He was appreciative of the breather that Lisbon's next secret would provide.

Jane was dragged back to the present by the sound of Lisbon clearing her throat.

She tried to smile, but fell short of her mark. Her attempt did not ease the sensation of heaviness in his stomach, in fact, it felt like he'd swallowed a large stone.

"Funny that you should mention jealousy, Jane."

He felt his stomach clench around the imaginary stone; this would be an unpleasant truth.

* * *

**Author's Note** **Part Two**: So, I'm thinking that I might bump up the rating of this story to 'M,' but I don't want to alienate any readers? Suggestions on how I deal?


	4. Secret the Second, part One: Lisbon

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Mentalist_. A fact that Bruno Heller is probably pretty happy about because I would do very naughty things with Jane and Lisbon.

**Author's Note**: I bet you guys thought that I wouldn't get this up tonight, right? No worries, I come bearing small gifts of smut. Please note the rating change, as this chapter is about to take this fic in a rather lemony direction.

* * *

"_Funny that you should mention jealousy, Jane."_

This isn't the secret that she had intended to tell him, but in light of the way the first round had turned out, it was probably more appropriate.

What she's not sure of, however, is how it will go over.

Jane had been throughout the years, at turns, casually possessive and protective of her. Lisbon had always just assumed that it was out of a desire not to lose his connection to the Red John case, and then she had believed that his small touches and little demonstrations stemmed from a need for friendship.

His confession had altered her whole view of their time together at the CBI. Now that she knew, really knew, that he cared, that he had always cared, this was a secret that needed airing.

Lisbon found herself wishing for something stronger than tea. Some truths were best given with a shot of tequila.

"I, um…hmm."

As this was a secret that she had never had any intention of telling anyone, let alone Jane, Lisbon had no idea how to proceed.

Her thoughts were jumbled, her words were running into each other, leaving her tongue-tied. Oh well, she thought, try and try again.

"I, uh, I saw―"

Now, it was Lisbon's turn to bury her head in her hands. She was desperately trying to sort out a coherent sequence of thought to give to Jane. She had no idea as to why this should be more difficult than her first secret, as well as admitting to Jane that she had been jealous of Lorelei and all the others, but it was.

"_Please_, Lisbon, just tell me. I can handle it, I promise."

Suddenly, she knows: the fear that she hears in Jane's voice is the same as the fear scrambling her words and shutting down her reason.

Still, logic tells her that this secret should be no more earth shattering than the previous two, but experience informs her that she can never really know how Jane will react to something.

Fuck it, she thinks. Just bite the bullet and get it all out. Worry about Jane when you're done.

"I saw Walter Mashburn more than once."

Silence met her declaration, so she pressed on.

"It wasn't a steady thing, just when he happened to be in town."

She chanced a slightly sheepish look at Jane; uh oh, this was not looking good, finish this fast, Lisbon, end it on an amusing note.

"He, uh, he was in town _a lot_ during the Lorelei thing. You know, Walter flew me to Seattle for dinner one night; I was so tired the next day that I was shocked that you didn't say some―"

She looked up again during her confession and Jane's hardened eyes arrested her own.

Lisbon has to admit, in the privacy of her mind, that this was not the first time that she had been wrong about Jane and his reactions.

What part of his brain that is still operating on a rational level knows that Lisbon has every right to a relationship, a sexual relationship, with someone that is not him. Hell, his rational brain knows that that is why she is with Special Agent Marcus Pike right now, and that _that _relationship is what has brought Lisbon to him tonight.

His rational brain knows all of this and accepts it without condemnation.

His not-so-rational brain, the Neanderthal lurking within him, could not accept anything of the sort.

Pike was one thing. Pike was _safe_ because he was stable, a known quantity with not a truly spontaneous bone in his body. Asking Lisbon to go to D.C. with him was an aberration, a quirk caused by how overwhelming fantastic Lisbon was. The man worked in art theft, for God's sake! He was the kind of man that Lisbon went to in periods of vulnerability because he offered very little in the way of emotional turmoil.

Mashburn…Mashburn, and men like him, was an entirely different story. Lisbon was drawn to excitement, to the thrill of chase, and the victory of a capture. Mashburn might run in a different social circle, but he was bored, and his boredom had him seeking out all manner of new ways to entertain himself. Lisbon was not of his world; she was shiny, sparkling new, and gorgeous to boot. Mashburn was drawn to her like a moth to flame, but the attraction was supposed to burn out.

Jane would not have encouraged Lisbon to indulge in the mindless, 'empty glamor' otherwise.

One night, the one night he knew about, that was it!

The thought of Lisbon having something more with _Mashburn_…did something terrible to him. He could feel his rational brain being slowly subsumed by his irrational one.

Her words became white noise, and his awareness of them lessened every second that he spent imagining Mashburn and _his_ Lisbon in a passionate clench; Mashburn flying Lisbon off to some location for an elegant evening. Do the things that he'd been longing to do for years because Lisbon was worth all of that and more.

Jane could hear Lisbon becoming more concerned at his unresponsive state.

"Jane? Jane! Jane, dammit, answer me!"

Sudden and vicious clarity sank in: Lisbon had gone to Mashburn because he had been involved in a cat and mouse game with Lorelei and Red John simultaneously. He'd given all of his focus to playing one so that the other would overextend themselves and reveal their hand.

Lisbon had been angry at Jane for excluding her so thoroughly from the whole affair, jealous of the closeness that he had exhibited to get Lorelei's guard to drop, and so she had sought the distraction that Mashburn so ably provided.

Except…except it could have been more than that with Mashburn. He offered Lisbon the kind of mindless excitement that she craved to take her mind of the job. As far as Jane had known, Lisbon had been in a good enough place emotionally that a relationship could have been a real possibly.

Lisbon, having a relationship right under his nose because he was to goddamn stubborn to give his attention to someone other than Red John.

It burned that he hadn't been there for Lisbon, that he'd left for six months only to return and find that what they had had, what they had shared, was…diminished.

"Jane!"

The light touch to his shoulder startled him out of his inner world, launching him fully into the present, and made him intensely aware of the fact that Lisbon was close. Close enough for him to breathe in, to feel, touch, and _taste_.

His rational mind gave him one more clear thought before being taken entirely over: Face it, Patrick, you're upset that she was with Mashburn because he's too much like _you_.

Jane's irrational self took that thought and transformed it: Lisbon had been with Mashburn because he _reminded_ her of you.

That thought is the one that has him propelling out of his seat and grasping Lisbon to him.

"Jane, what the hell are you doing? Ja―"

He cuts her off with a fierce kiss. Jane opens her mouth with a few deft swipe of his tongue, inwardly crowing with victory when Lisbon gives in with a whimper.

The Neanderthal in him is crying out '_Mine_!_ Mine_!_ Mine_!' every time Lisbon shudders, every time a little moan escapes as he gives her lower lip a light nibble.

Jane feels one of her hands sink into his hair, anchoring his face to hers, while the other finds his waist and pulls his hips to hers.

It's his turn to let out a moan. The feeling of Lisbon kissing him, touching him, arching against him, satisfies an ache that had been weighing on him for years.

The kiss turns soft for a moment, and they exchange small caresses.

A thumb stroking across a cheek, an eyelid; Jane frees a hand from Lisbon's hair and runs it down to her jaw, grasping it and tilting her head back.

He drags himself away from her lips and presses a series of kisses down her arched neck, before gently biting down on her exposed clavicle.

The moan that Lisbon gives in response is unhindered and Jane revels in the sound. Lisbon was moaning because of him, for _him_.

He exalts in the sensation it causes in him.

The desire to touch Lisbon is overwhelming him, so he lets his hand abandon her neck in favor of running it down her side, glancing over her breast before arriving at her waist.

Jane runs his thumb under her shirt, pushing it up slightly, then smoothing over her newly exposed skin with his other fingers.

Lisbon follows suit by gliding her hand along his waist, but she shocks him by slipping her fingers under his waistband.

He feels his breath whoosh out of him at the sensation of her soft hand touching his heated skin.

"Jesus, Lisbon!" His voiced is strained with surprise and arousal, "Lisbon, be careful down there, I'm liable to go off any minute if your hand moves any more to the left."

The hand she has in his hair pulls his mouth back to hers. Before he can even blink, Lisbon has her tongue in his mouth, sliding along his own, and darting back out so that she could nip and suck at his lips.

Jane was feeling like he was on the edge of great precipice, and he would like nothing better than to fall over it, together, with Lisbon.

He turns their bodies so that Lisbon is closest to his sofa, and he begins to push her down.

She grunts in protest, but the pressure he's exerting is too firm for her to resist.

Then, she's down on the sofa, and he's encouraging her to lie sideways.

"Jane, what―"

"Shh, Lisbon, it's okay. Just let me take care of you, please?"

Apparently, Lisbon had more than one coherent thought left in her arousal-addled brain than Jane did because she tried again to distract him from his desire.

"Jane, it's not right, I'm with Marcus…"

"God, Lisbon, don't you think I know that? Please, think about that later, don't let guilt ruin what you're feeling right now."

He hated even bringing up the possibility of guilty feelings, but they had to be acknowledged in order for Lisbon to feel comfortable with moving forward. Jane also knew that he would do his best to talk her out of those guilty feelings later…much later.

She looked at him, desire and doubt evident in her eyes, and gave a small nod of assent.

"Thank you; thank you, Lisbon. You won't regret this, I promise you, you won't."

He murmured more assurances into her ear as he covered her body with his own. Lisbon's eager hands gave up on tousling Jane's hair and began digging his shirt out of his pants, nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt, then running her hand over the light smattering of hair on his chest.

Jane groans at the touch and gives Lisbon a quick kiss before giving her shirt the same treatment.

At the first sight of her breasts, he feels all the breath in his lungs leave him. He looks at them reverently, and then glances into Lisbon's eyes, he doesn't even have to voice his question because she's nodding fervently and moving his hands to rest over the cups of her bra.

Jane pulls one cup down and thumbs her nipple lightly, observing how exposure to the air and the light pressure he applied wrinkles it up most attractively. He can tell from her squirming, though, that light touch will not satisfy her for long.

He brings his thumb up to his mouth, giving it a long, lascivious lick; he watches how Lisbon's eyes dilate at the sight he presents. His thumb is drawn back to her nipple, and this time, he gives Lisbon the pressure that she's craving.

He circles, taps, and pinches until Lisbon is practically panting beneath him.

"Jane, your mouth, please, Jane, your mouth!"

The sound of Lisbon begging will fuel his fantasies until the day he dies, he is sure of that.

But, he's always been as obliging as he could where Lisbon was concerned, so his mouth covers her waiting nipple, and he suckles like a man too long deprived of something sweet.

Above him, Lisbon is cursing and her hands are wound so tightly in his hair that he is convinced that clumps of it will be coming out shortly.

Jane knows, he _feels_, that she is enjoying the sensations that his mouth is visiting upon her, but it's not enough. He needs to feel her come apart beneath him, he needs her to shatter completely.

He drags a hand down her body, landing on the button of her jeans. A quick snap, followed by a drawing down of her zipper, and his hand has reached the promised land.

Lisbon's panties are soaked clear through and her center is radiating intense heat. A fleeting thought goes through his cerebellum, Lisbon always did make him burn in the best of ways.

He hears her soft moans turn into a sharp cry as he finds her swollen clit beneath her panties. He rubs her in time with his tongue circling her nipple, and Lisbon's whole body tightens, preparing for her release.

Just a bit more, he thinks, she's almost there.

One more rub on her clit, a tight tug on her nipple, his teeth grazing up slightly, and his Lisbon is _gone_. She's over the edge and falling fast.

The hands that had been holding his head to her so tightly are pushing him away, her body too sensitive for his attentions down. The hand that had been stroking her bud was now soothing up and down her side, guiding her through the aftershocks.

He knows that they're going to have to talk about this. Jane's rational brain is now in control of the rest of him, and reality will soon cover them again. To forestall what he knows is coming, Jane offers up the one thing that he is sure can distract her.

"I think I want to finish that thought that I cut off earlier. My wife, Lisbon, I don't think I ever really showed her who I was."


	5. Secret the Second, part Two: Jane

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Mentalist_. That honor goes to Bruno Heller, although he doesn't always deserve it.

**Author's Note**: I am so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up! I was hit by a very sudden illness that I spent the weekend recovering from. Warning, this chapter is pretty dialog heavy. When Jane decides to bare all, he really bares all. Happy Memorial Day to all my American readers! To everyone else, Happy May 26th, or 27th (depending on your time zone)!

* * *

"_I think I want to finish that thought that I cut off earlier. My wife, Lisbon, I don't think I ever really showed her who I was." _

Lisbon go still beneath him at his words, as if the entirety of her body was now straining to hear his next.

Jane took a moment to put Lisbon back to rights before continuing. He regretfully withdrew his hand from Lisbon's pants and recovered her breast. He couldn't quite bear to button her shirt back up; he needed the contact of her skin on his to get him through his next confession.

He felt her fingers slide back into his hair, soothing him and drawing him down to lay his head on the breast he had just covered. Lisbon will probably never know just how grateful he is not to have to look her in the eye for this.

"I'm a trickster by blood and trade, Lisbon. My father raised me in his image just as his father did with him. There's a cycle to such things, my dear, and I thought that I had broken it.

"Angela and I ran away when were still just kids; I think we were in our early twenties. We had such simple plans for our future. Once you spend all of your life on the move, surrounded by the false fantasy and glamor of the carnival, a simple life sounds like heaven.

"So we ran. Well, not immediately. We had a small family ceremony, which you know the particulars of, and then we ran and ran until we were stopped by the ocean. We settled in Malibu because we'd heard that it was easy to find jobs there and that it was a good place to raise kids. We were both more than a little terrified due to the fact that somewhere between Reno and San Fran, we found out that Angela was pregnant."

Jane felt Lisbon's fingers clutch at his hair; he knew that he was giving her more than one secret with his confession, but all of it had to be told, or none of it would be.

He took the lull as an opportunity to shift them around on the sofa until Lisbon was facing the backrest and he was curled around her. He still needed the façade of anonymity provided by speaking to her back. This position had the added bonus of allowing him to hold Lisbon while feeling held himself.

"Yeah, Lisbon, I know the timing doesn't add up for that baby to be Charlotte. I'll get there, I promise."

Lisbon shook her head in assent, causing her hair to slide across his chest, and his arms tightened around her a little bit more.

"We lived out of a hotel room for a month or so, both of us working 40 plus hours a week to save up the money for a few months' rent on an apartment. I started bringing in some more money when I was recruited to sell ladies' footwear."

Jane felt a shudder run through Lisbon's body, and he knew that she was suppressing her laughter at the thought of him kneeling down before various women, offering up heel after heel, only to have each one rejected.

"Go ahead and laugh, my dear, but the money was decent, and I had steady, if slightly smelly, clients."

This time, a giggle escaped her and Jane let out a sigh of relief at the knowledge that some of the tension had eased. He was grateful for the emotional reprieve, but he was aware that the moment couldn't last.

"I was profoundly unhappy, Lisbon, even though I had everything I could possibly want, it wasn't enough. Until I had left the world of the mark and con behind, I didn't know how much I needed it to be _me_. The lie had become such a huge part of my identity that leaving it behind…damaged me, changed me, and not for the better."

The concept of the job being part of the very soul was one that he knew Lisbon had intimate knowledge of. She could no more stop being a cop than he could stop being a showman.

"I did my best not to let on to Angela. She was nervous enough about the baby, we both were, but she was distracted, so I managed to escape her notice. I continued to bury it; I think I buried it so deep that I forgot about it sometimes. I forgot about all of it until this client of mine came in with a friend and I―I slipped. I cold-read her by accident. And, just like that, I was back in."

Jane was sure that Lisbon had seen plenty of similar behaviors in recovering narcotics police from her time with the San Fran PD. It never took much for addicts, one hint of a hit and they were gone. He knew that he was no better.

"This friend of my client, she was wealthy, really wealthy. She wanted me on retainer, wanted to trot me out and have me perform for her friends. Angela and I needed the money and I…Fuck, I was desperate for the attention, starved for it. Angela begged me not to do it, she told me that we had agreed to leave that life behind us, but I waved her off. Promised her it wouldn't be forever, just until we'd saved enough money.

"I managed to convince myself that that was the truth, but not her. I didn't care, so I did it anyway."

He could barely bear to get the next part out, so he buried his face in Lisbon's neck, inhaling her scent, borrowing her strength to carry on.

"I was out, performing at some event for my client. I was hoping to snag an even bigger mark. That was a defining characteristic of my life, Lisbon; never being happy with what I had, but I never could have imagined what my selfishness could cost me. I never learn, Lisbon, I just let history repeat itself over and over!"

Jane felt her turn in his arms then. He was half-tempted to stop her; he was afraid of her seeing the tears on his cheeks and the shame in his eyes. He deserved condemnation for what he had done. So many things that he could not undo, words he couldn't take back…

However, Lisbon was a woman capable of infinite mercy. Jane let out a sob as she pulled him to her. He felt her kissing his lips and smoothing away his tears, and he heard her voice as if from a distance, whispering to him that was okay, he could tell her anything and it would be okay.

Jane's grip on Lisbon tightened even more and he kissed her back fervently. His kiss was full of desperation and she tasted like the sweetest forgiveness. He let Lisbon soothe him back into quietness and sanity.

_God, I really don't deserve her_, the thought was a sharp pain that jolted through his whole body, _but I don't think I could ever let her go._

The next time Lisbon spoke, he heard her words loud and clear, "You don't have to say any more, Jane, we can stop this. It's okay."

He'd hid his face in her throat, trying to compose himself, but her words had him lifting his head back up.

"No, Lisbon, these secrets need saying. As painful as they are, they need saying."

She nodded and placed a light, sweet kiss on his lips; the softest benediction. "I'm listening, Jane."

Jane took a deep breath, steeling himself against the pain his next words would bring welling up.

"I got the call around midnight. I'd planned on staying over, so I had left the contact information with Angela. It was the hospital…they told me that Angela had suffered a miscarriage at work and that she was in emergency care. I dropped everything and ran. I don't think I said my goodbyes, I just ran.

"When I got to the hospital, she'd already been moved to another room. Lisbon, she looked at me and apologized, as if it had been her fault! I hate myself for making her feel like that because I knew that the fault was all mine. If I'd been there, if I'd bothered to notice how stressed and overworked she was, I might've…

"But no, I was a selfish bastard, and I went away to party while she suffered alone. The thing is, Lisbon, I knew I wouldn't be able to change back. I couldn't get another 9 to 5, I couldn't change for her even though she needed me to. But, I could drag her along with me.

"Instead of letting her dwell, I packed her up and moved her around. They said the best cure for grief was activity, and I was on the verge of making it; I couldn't sit still and I couldn't leave her behind. Surprisingly, we made it work. I was bringing in the money, and getting more recognition every day. Angela was recovering. We were talking. We hadn't really talked since we were little kids, but I was finally opening up to her.

"I still hid parts of myself away, though. The ugly selfishness, the darkness, my self-hatred, those things I kept back from her. I thought that if I shared enough of everything else that it wouldn't matter. And it seemed like I was right. We settled back in Malibu, bought a house, and found out that we were going to have Charlotte.

"What happened after is a matter of public record. But police reports and interviews won't tell you about the suicide attempts, the nervous breakdown, months spent wallowing inside my own head because I hated myself too much to go on. Red John gave me a purpose, Lisbon. And you, you helped fill in the rest."

Quiet descended on them again, neither of them knowing how to proceed.

It was Lisbon who broke the silence first, "If I we're going to continue lying down, we should probably move to your bed."


	6. Secret the Third, part One: Lisbon

**Disclaimer**: I do not own_ The Mentalist_. This is probably a good thing. Bruno Heller, you might wring your hands in agony at what I do with your creation.

**Author's Note**: Oh my, what's this I see? Another chapter? And there was much rejoicing! I'm glad this fic is almost over, these chapters are starting to weigh on me. Especially now that it's getting more difficult to write them at work (what can I say, work makes me bored, boredom makes me write). By the way, you guys have made this my most reviewed/most followed story. You know what that makes you? FREAKING AWESOME, THAT'S WHAT! Thank you so much for your support! This one goes out to you!

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"_If I we're going to continue lying down, we should probably move to your bed."_

She quite honestly has no idea how to respond to Jane's confession. She had always pictured him as a loving husband and father who put the needs of his family before his own.

But, this revelation brought him down to Earth, made him seem more human than everything else that she knew about him. Jane was larger than life, and normally he was quite happy being so, but this…this offered a new perspective on Jane that she'd lacked information to form.

He'd come to the CBI, to her, a broken man. She had done her best over the years to help put him back together, provide pieces for those that were missing, or flat out help him create new ones. Lisbon hadn't known that she had participated in what was, essentially, the creation of a new man.

Jane could be selfish, yes; he could be dark, and he had more demons than a person claiming to be possessed. However, Lisbon had witnessed firsthand over the years his great capacity for kindness and generosity, mostly because those acts had been directed at her. Still, she knew that she could not love him, would not have fallen in love with him, if he had never changed from the selfish child of his youth to the very self-aware man of his present.

He isn't making a move to get off the couch, though, and despite her claim of being able to stay awake all night, she is fading fast.

"Jane, get your ass in gear. I'm sleepy, and if we're going to finish this thing, we'll do it in bed."

Lisbon could see that her words have startled Jane out of a deep thought, but they also apparently provided him with plenty of ammunition for innuendo.

"Why, Lisbon, my dear, if I had known that you wanted me in the bed I would have moved in that direction much faster. I'll have you know, though, that I don't take kindly to being manhandled. You should treat me gently."

Though his words are light and teasing, the heaviness of guilt was still hanging in his eyes. She felt the need to reassure him again, to let him know that he hadn't managed to drive her off in all the years that they had worked together, and that his admission hadn't changed how she felt about him.

So, instead of falling back on words and platitudes, Lisbon used another tried and true method of getting Jane to wake from a self-pity stupor (it had the added bonus of letting him know that she cared, as well as being rather cathartic): she thumped his arm, hard.

The effects of her action were as desired and immediate.

"Oww, Lisbon, what was that for?"

Lisbon was forced to admit that Jane had an endearing pout; his lower lip jutted out impetuously, and his golden curls lent him an air of injured innocence.

"'That' was for almost having me on the sofa!"

She hit him again. "That was for distracting me from talking about it!"

Jane was looking mutinous, irritated that she had caught his ploy. "I would have you know, Lisbon, that that particular secret has been lurking within the depths of my heart for some time. You should feel honored that I shared it with you."

His statement ended on a mutter, and she knew that he was using his disgruntlement as a cover for how serious he was.

In the interest of forestalling any other protestations, Lisbon decided to kiss him. She _liked_ kissing Jane. She reveled in his surprise at her bold move before allowing herself to fall into the taste and texture of his mouth.

She heard Jane give a small moan before feeling his tongue brush against hers.

But, as delicious as the sensations were, she had to break this off before it went any further. She pulled back gradually, soothing his objections with light nibbles and small pecks.

She finally backed all the way off and spent a moment memorizing the image of a thoroughly kissed Jane: curls mussed, lips red and swollen, a flush high on his cheeks. Unable to resist the temptation he presented, she ran a thumb across his lips, gathering up the hint of wetness there before slipping that thumb into her mouth.

Lisbon had never seen a man go cross-eyed with lust before, she hadn't believed that she could have that effect on a man, but low and behold, Jane's eyes crossed and his mouth went slack.

"Lisbon." Her name came out from between his lips on a raspy growl.

"Shh, Jane, we'll save that for later. For now, I want to move to you bed. This couch is unforgiving, and my back is as much a victim of time as the rest of me."

She watched with satisfied eyes as Jane shook off the haze of lust and stood up. She was pleased to note, however, that his body's reaction to her was still in full effect.

Giving in to the desire to tease him one last time (payback for all the times she couldn't), Lisbon swung her legs off the couch, placing them in front of Jane's, and stood up by increments. She made sure that, by the time that she was fully upright, the front of her body had brushed against every inch of his.

Then, she turned away and walked towards his bed, stretching out her limbs as she went.

She heard a low growl come from behind her, "Cruelty, thy name is Lisbon. It would be kinder of you to kill me and get it over with."

Lisbon laughed and gave a coy glance over her shoulder at him, "That would be too easy, Jane; I've got more than one score to settle with you, and to do that, I need you alive."

Still laughing, Lisbon added a bit more sway to her hips before settling on Jane's bed. She knew that on some level she should probably feel guilty about what she had done with Jane. Normally, she would never participate in anything remotely sexual or flirtatious with another man while she was in a relationship. But, most of the time it felt like she wasn't really in a relationship with Marcus.

It was true that she had agreed to go to D.C. with him, but she had never told him that she loved him. Lisbon had never even thought about love in relation to Marcus. She had agreed with him that there was the potential for something more, but in her heart of hearts, she didn't really believe it. Loving Marcus, or anyone else, would be impossible so long as Jane existed on the earth.

So, despite her relationship with Marcus, her religion, and her better nature, she could not bring herself to feel guilty over a single thing that had happened with Jane tonight. _There is not enough time in the world for me to waste a single second of it on guilt_.

Nodding to herself with satisfaction over her resolution, Lisbon swiftly reached up under her shirt and unhooked her bra. Jane's forceful exhale caught her attention. "What, Jane?"

"I just―I know you're teasing me, Lisbon. I know we're not going to take this any further tonight. But you're testing me, my dear. I've had a taste, but don't think I don't want the rest."

Lisbon gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm not teasing, Jane. Well, I am, but I have every intention of following through. Just…not tonight. We're both a little too raw for that, I think. But tomorrow…tomorrow is a different story, Jane. So, how's about you get over here and make yourself comfortable. We still have to get through a secret apiece, and I want to be comfy when we do."

"What about Pike, Lisbon? I've come to realize that I can't share you. You have to be completely mine. Just having your friendship isn't enough for me now, I need it all. And I need you to be okay with that."

She stiffened at the mention of Marcus, her fingers stilling in the action of unbuttoning her pants. He had every right to be concerned, she conceded, after all, he was the one on completely uncertain ground. Whether she stayed or left was a decision that she alone would ma―

His words "completely mine" finally registered. "What do you mean I have to be 'yours?' That sounds like a load of misogynistic bullshit to me, Jane."

Jane made a placating gesture with his hands, "Don't worry, Lisbon, I'll be completely yours. I _am_ completely yours. Don't you know that?"

The thought of Jane belonging to her stunned Lisbon into silence. She'd been jealous for so long of the people that Jane belonged to: Red John, Lorelei, the goddamn FBI, and even, upon some shameful occasions, his wife and child. But despite all the years that they had worked together, and despite the number of those years that she had been in love with him, it had never occurred to her that Jane would dedicate himself to her. That he would give himself up to her was…humbling.

"I guess it is time for my last secret after all, Jane. I'm staying. I'm not going to D.C., I'm not going to marry Marcus. I'm going to stay here in Austin, with you. I know I told you earlier that I should be home packing. And I should, I really should because for all the years that I've known you, you've given me nothing but grief and heartache and you never once considered what it would do to me if you succeeded in killing Red John, how much my life would change because of that.

"I should be at home, packing up the life that I was starting to make here, but I couldn't…I couldn't pack you away in a neat little box and take you with me. All I have are your letters, Jane, and thousands of memories. It wasn't _enough_. I'd have to leave you behind and the thought of it was killing me because I've never left you before, you always leave _me_.

"But I had to know that I wasn't staying for nothing. You had to be capable of giving something back to me, Jane, and if you weren't going to be able to do that, I needed to know. It was only fair; I had to know just what I had to look forward to in exchange for a stable, and quite possibly very happy, life with Marcus in D.C.

"So that's it, Jane. That's my last secret. In the end, I couldn't leave you behind because I'm in love with you."


	7. Secret the Third, part Two: Jane

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Mentalist_, but if I could buy it off of Bruno Heller and sell it to HBO, I would.

**Author's Note**: This is the final chapter of _Three Secrets_; however, I will be posting a short epilogue soon. Thank you all for your kind words; I hope you've enjoyed reading this fic as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

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"_So that's it, Jane. That's my last secret. In the end, I couldn't leave you behind because I'm in love with you."_

He had hoped.

For _years_ he had hoped, but he had never let himself believe that she could love him as deeply as he did her. For so long it had seemed to be an impossible.

In order for his world to keep on turning, Jane must love Lisbon. He could never quite accept that the reverse might come true.

But it just did. She had laid her heart on the line, had bared her soul, and he was left feeling unworthy of her, of her honesty, of her brilliance. She burned so brightly in front of him sometimes that he was almost forced to turn his head.

Jane was aware that he needed to say something, anything, to fill up the silence gathering between them, but words had never been enough to express what he felt about Lisbon. However, Jane's words were often all that he had to fall back on.

He could tell her all the plans that he had concocted to prevent her from leaving.

He could tell her that he'd been digging around in the cold cases, trying to find something that the team could latch onto, forcing her to stay a little longer. Jane had been desperately trying to squeeze _seconds_ out of whatever time they had left together.

Jane had thought of everything he could think of, and it wasn't enough. He had retired to his trailer that night fully expecting to have to say good-bye to Lisbon in the following days and the thought had nearly killed him.

"I would have chased after you," Jane blurted out.

The confused look on her face prodded him to continue. "If you had left―if you had boarded a plane and jetted off to D.C., I would have followed after. I would have begged you to come back. I had all these plans, you see. All these half-cocked ideas just waiting to be hatched because I was desperate for you to stay. But in the end, I couldn't do it. I'm selfish, Lisbon; I'm self-absorbed and it had to be you that agreed to stay, because you_ wanted_ to stay.

"I have memories, too. Thousands upon thousands of little moments built inside my memory palace. There are entire floors dedicated to you, Lisbon, and it's not nearly enough.

"When I came back, I had so many ideas about the two of us. But I messed it up from the start. I tried to control your life without consideration of your wants and needs. And you called me on it. So, I backed off. I thought that was what you wanted. I thought that you had given up on me, on the possibility of us, but I couldn't stop looking at you. You shine so brightly in my dark world, and for years you have been my only source of light.

"I'm not being metaphorical, Lisbon. Okay, I am, but I never had any intention of outliving Red John. It had always been a murder-suicide plan because I couldn't conceive of another way that it might play out. You changed all of that for me. You became a reason that I woke up in the morning and dragged myself to work. I hate murder, Lisbon, looking at death day after day is painful and damaging, but for you I closed cases. You make this job, this _life_, infinitely more bearable just by being near me.

"I wasn't lying when I said that all I want is your happiness. I just left out the part where I wanted your happiness to be me, well, us. Together. That's my last secret, Teresa Lisbon. Even though all my plans to make you stay fell by the wayside, I would have chased after you to the ends of the earth because I never quite mastered the art of living my life without you in it."

What Jane felt for Lisbon went beyond love. There were times that he almost couldn't bear the weight of it, but then she would smile, and he would realize that the weight was not heavy on his heart. She was a joy that he carried within himself.

He looked at Lisbon, half-naked in his bed, tears running down her cheeks, and she was the embodiment of everything that was good and right in the world. Her love redeemed him in a way that he had never thought would be possible.

Jane knelt before and began to wipe her tears away.

"You are the very best part of me, Teresa. Loving you makes me feel like a better man, but _being_ loved by you makes me want to _be_ a better man."

Lisbon had begun crying in earnest and her tears were coming faster than Jane could wipe them away, but he knew that despite the heart-wrenching sound and appearance, hers were tears of joy, hope, and probably relief.

He stood for a moment and started to unbutton his shirt. There was nothing teasing in his movements, just a simple economy of motion, but it had the desired effect. Lisbon's hiccupping sobs began to ease, and her tears slowed. She raised an eyebrow, a wry gesture that was slightly ruined by the presence of her tears, "Really, Jane? You lay those beautiful words on me and _then_ you start taking your clothes off? You're a sly old dog."

Jane gave her a pained glance at 'old dog' jab. "Are you going to be mentioning a 'new tricks' cliché next, Lisbon? Tsk, tsk, my dear, I thought you above such petty ploys."

She wiped the last of her tears away and stood up to help him with his task. "If the shoe fits, Jane, you have to―"

"Eat it?"

That got him a laugh.

"Foot-in-mouth syndrome is nothing new to you, Jane. Sixty percent of complaints about you, if not more, were a result of that unfortunate tendency of yours."

She made for the button on his pants, but his hands stilled hers before she could progress. "Lucky for you that you don't have to process those anymore. However, Abbott is always very vocal about the grief that I cause him. I have long suspected that you had a word with him and told him to nag me at every opportunity about it."

Lisbon smiled up at him, "I'll deny that to my grave."

Jane bent down and gave her a soft kiss, "That won't be necessary. That little admission is proof enough."

Together they unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, and she drew them down his legs, allowing him to step out. Lisbon let out a small snort at the sight of his boxers. "Not really what I had pictured you wearing, Jane."

"You object, Lisbon? I'll have you know that these are classics, and they are deserving of your respect. Besides, everybody needs to feel like a superhero sometimes."

Lisbon took a step back and twirled her finger in the air. Jane obediently made a small turn.

"Well, I guess that have a certain appeal."

"Thank you, my dear, for that glowing endorsement."

"Give it time, Jane, they'll grow on me. I might end up wearing them one day." The remark, followed by her sly grin, caught him off guard. The image of Lisbon wearing his clothing was a tantalizing one. He caught her around the waist and drew her into him, giving her a deep kiss in retaliation. When she pulled away, breathless, Jane reached for the button on her trousers. The memory of what he had done to her earlier was resurfacing with a vengeance, and his breath caught as he eased her zipper down, listening to the teeth click one by one.

"I know you said that nothing else was going to happen tonight, Lisbon, but I would very much like to hold you in my arms and whisper sweet nothings to you while you wear nothing but a smile."

Lisbon shivered under his hands. "I don't think you'll find me objecting to those plans, Jane."

She reached behind her and unsnapped her bra. Jane pulled her pants down to the floor and was treated to the glorious sight of Lisbon leaning over him, breasts swinging above his mouth, as she stripped herself of her panties.

She stood before him, completely naked, and utterly devastating. Jane felt the air rush out of his lungs, and the breath that he drew back in was audible. "I don't have the words to describe you, Lisbon, but I can promise you that I will spend the rest of our lives trying to find them."

He stepped to her side, giving her a quick kiss and a small grope, and turned down the sheets on his bed. He turned back and gestured to her, "Ladies first." He handed her into the bed and followed close behind.

Jane snugged himself up behind Lisbon, doing his best to imprint the feeling of her naked body up against his partially clothed one. A comfortable drowsiness settled over them.

Jane heard Lisbon's sleepy voice mumble, "Next time, Jane, we do this without the boxers."

Jane determined that it was time to start whispering the sweet nothings, "Which time, Lisbon? I'm hoping for a lifetime of them. I want a house with a white-picket fence. I want you to have a dog; I want to give you a child (if that's what you want); I want to wake up every morning and see you in my bed; I want…"

He heard Lisbon's breathing even out as she slipped into sleep.

"I want to love you until the stars stop burning."

And then, one final sweet nothing before sleep claimed him as well, "I want to marry you, Lisbon."

* * *

**Author's Note the Second**: I've posted a link to the boxers in my profile. I had a little giggle at the thought of Jane wearing them...


	8. Armistice Day

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _The Mentalist_, it belongs to Bruno "The Undeserving" Heller.

**Author's Note**: Here it is, folks! The EPILOGUE! We have reached the conclusion of _Three Secrets_; thank you all for reading and reviewing!

* * *

Lisbon woke up the next morning wrapped in a feeling of warm contentment. Then she realized that she was completely naked and had a bit of a panic.

Her subsequent thrashing woke her bedmate who let out a disgruntled sigh.

"Lisbon, I'm pretty sure that being awake before the sun has even had a chance to shine is some kind of sin. So, let's not bother your priest with an unnecessary confession and go back to sleep."

She had stilled her movements at the sound of Jane's voice, her memories of the previous night flooding her awareness. Her current state of undress now had an explanation, as did her presence in Jane's bed. The panic receded and the warmth returned.

"Jane."

Her voice wasn't pitched much higher than a murmur, so it garnered no response.

"Jane!"

Slightly louder this time, and the response was immediate, if unexpected.

A heavy arm clamped around her middle and drew her back against a warm, mostly naked, Jane.

"Seriously, Lisbon, we've got time to sleep, so let's just sleep!"

Lisbon wiggled against him, "What if sleep isn't what I have in mind, Jane? After all, it's a new day." She could feel his interest in an activity other than sleep perk up.

"Why, Teresa Lisbon, are you suggesting a morning romp? I'm not opposed, my dear, but I know what you're like in the morning without your coffee. I might lose something important, and then we'll be in a bind."

She laughed and wiggled a little more. "You could always get up and make me a cup."

"I would if I could, but I can't. I drink tea, Lisbon, not coffee. You will not find a single bean of that vile stuff within my domicile."

"That does put us in a bit of a pickle."

"Indeed in does."

"How will we ever solve this grave dilemma?"

"I propose that we sleep on the matter, Lisbon."

"We could, but coffee will not magically appear while we do. And, I'll still be a grump a few hours from now."

She heard Jane sigh again, "You make some excellent points, my dear. What is your solution to our fine little pickle?"

Lisbon turned in Jane's arms and was treated with a sight that she had never seen before: half-naked, sleep-tousled Jane. He gave her a broad, sleepy grin, and Lisbon felt a flush work its way over her body. A shy smile curled over her lips, "Hi."

"Hello."

They looked at each other in the pre-dawn light. He bent his head and gave her slightly parted lips a slow, sweet kiss.

"Hello."

"You said that already."

"Did I? I think kissing you made me forget. Best not do that again."

"What? Kiss me or forget?"

Jane put on a pensive look, pretending to mull the matter over, "Hmm…ki―I mean, forget."

She laughed and smacked him lightly on the arm, then she drew him back for another kiss. The quick dart of her tongue, and the nips from his teeth had them both gasping when they broke apart.

"Lisbon, what were we talking about?"

"I have no idea, Jane, but I think it might have been kissing."

"I like the kissing, it's better than sleep."

Their lips met again, and this time their hands joined the fray.

Hers were drawn to his hair, playing through the curls and tugging to get his face to angle properly. Jane's hands were more adventurous, they tugged and tweaked her nipples, causing her to gasp into his mouth and arch her back.

Lisbon lifted her leg and settled it over Jane's hip, pulling him towards her sharply. It was his turn to gasp as his cloth-covered erection met the warmth of stomach. He hissed at the friction her movements caused.

It was with the greatest reluctance that Jane pulled back, ignoring the hands that tried to stop him and the lips that invited him to continue.

"Teresa, we have to stop."

Lisbon groaned and dropped her head to the pillows, "I know, you're right. But we'll continue this soon."

Jane nodded fervently, "Soon."

Lisbon stretched out, her leg slipping down along Jane's. He let out a sharp moan, "Really, Lisbon? That's not fair!"

She gave him a coy smile, "I'll stop, I'll stop."

Lisbon looked at him thoughtfully, "You know, I'm pretty awake now, I might not even need coffee."

Jane glanced at her suspiciously, "I have a feeling that we're about to get out of bed, which is the exact opposite of sleeping."

"Top marks, Jane. We have to get up. I've got things to do."

"'Things?' What things?"

"Well, I've got to call Abbott and tell him I'm not leaving. I've got to call Marcus and tell him that not only am I staying, I'm breaking up with him. And then, I've got to go home and unpack. And you're coming with me."

"Why?" Jane snuggled down further into the bed, a study in sleepy petulance.

"Moral support," she deadpanned. Jane rolled his eyes.

Lisbon felt shy again, "Honestly? I want you there with me because I want you to hold my hand. And I thought that you might like to help me unpack because…uh…because―"

"Because," Jane prompted.

"Because we could rearrange? Maybe find some space for you…if you want."

Jane turned serious, "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

She rushed to reassure him, "Not right away! Just, you know, in case if in the future…I'm being silly. Sorry."

Lisbon tucked her chin into her chest, trying not to let her stupid, hurt feelings make her cry.

She felt a warm finger lift her chin, "Hey, it's okay. I'd love to live with you, Lisbon. Anytime, anywhere. I just want you to be sure. We've been moving like glaciers for years now. We don't need to rush."

"Yeah, it's just, this all still feels like some kind of dream, and it's like, if I let you out of my sight, things will snap back and that would kill me, Jane. I can't let go, not after we've come all this way."

Jane wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. "I'm yours, Lisbon. This isn't a dream. We're here, we're together; you're not leaving, and I'm going to marry you."

Her head shot up, "What?!"

Jane looked sheepish, "Just throwing that out there."

Lisbon was helpless to stop the laughter bubbling out, "And you said _I_ was moving fast? Jesus, Jane, at least I didn't put marriage on the table!"

"I know, but if we're showing our hands, I want to marry you and live with you and make a home with you. I have dreams of a future with you, Lisbon, and I'll do whatever it takes to make them come true. I meant it though, we have time, so we can take it slow. So, first thing's first: we should―"

"Get coffee."

It was Jane's turn to laugh. "Right, first, we'll get coffee. Then, we'll worry about the rest after."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Good."

"Jane?"

"Lisbon?"

"I'm still a bit sleepy."

"Okay, revised plan: sleep, then coffee."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Jane?"

"Lisbon?"

"I love you."

"I love you, Lisbon."

"Good."

"Good."

_Fin_


End file.
